


It Was Always You

by drjezdzany (Lorien), jaskiersvalley (connorssock)



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Competent Jaskier | Dandelion, Fights, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:02:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29135247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lorien/pseuds/drjezdzany, https://archiveofourown.org/users/connorssock/pseuds/jaskiersvalley
Summary: When Geralt doesn't meet Jaskier as planned, he is forced to go looking for him. It's just as well Jaskier is a spy and master of his craft in his own right, perfectly capable of being the knight in shining armour rather than the idiot in distress for a change.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 16
Kudos: 176
Collections: GRB2020 Team Works





	It Was Always You

**Author's Note:**

> Written and drawn for the Geraskier Reverse Bang.

They were meant to have met up at an inn just outside Maribor. Jaskier had even factored in a Geralt timeframe which meant a three day buffer before any worries truly set in. On the fourth day Jaskier was getting a little antsy but he could wait an additional day before starting to make enquiries. This was Geralt after all, just as likely to stop off and take a contract without fee from a struggling family as he was to enjoy picking flowers in a field for half a day. However, when the fifth day rolled round, Jaskier figured his idiot witcher had run into some unsavoury trouble. Leaving a note with the innkeeper just to be safe, Jaskier set out to find his errant friend. It was just as well he loved Geralt because that was the only reason he waited around and then went gallivanting off to find him.

Picking up the trail of the White Wolf is surprisingly easy, Jaskier suspected he’d have been able to do it even if he hadn’t been quietly working for the Redanian Secret Service for years and been trained by them. Still, he was now on the path to tracking Geralt down. Hopefully he would find his errant witcher picking some herbs while Roach grazed nearby. At least, that was the best outcome because then Jaskier could fuss and sulk a little bit, Geralt would taken them to an inn for a meal and a night in a proper bed in silent apology and they could be on their way. Alas, as Jaskier followed the stories, he was getting less convinced that useful herbs and pretty flowers were the cause of Geralt’s delay. Rumour had it, Baron Sombay had a contract out for a wraith that was causing havoc on his mansion grounds. That was all well and good but nobody had actually had any evidence of the wraith other than word of mouth. Even those were a ‘friend’s cousin’s grandma’s cat had seen it’ kind of story and Jaskier was getting more and more suspicious. He needed to get into the mansion and figure out what exactly happened.

Luck wasn’t on his side, there was no fancy ball or event that would help him sneak in. So Jaskier had to improvise. One evening spent playing in the inn near the mansion, trying to eavesdrop and find those who worked for Baron Sombay. There were a few he could identify, a maid, a cook and a guard at various tables. Of those, the cook was Jaskier’s most likely bet for getting in so, after his set, he settled at a table near the cook and listened.

“The pigs will be lean this year,” she grumbled to her table companions. “The Baron will have our heads.”

“It’s his fault though,” one of the other women picked up. “You have to waste slop on the monster. What’s he wanting to do with it again?”

Jaskier’s heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t proof but what were the odds on the baron having a monster to feed. He almost missed the titter that went up from the table.

“You need to stop calling his bride that. And we all know what he wants to do with her.”

So maybe Jaskier was wrong. He slumped back in his chair. Talks turned to the potential dated for the wedding. If it had been a more immediate thing, Jaskier would have used it as a chance to sneak in and explore the mansion. Then he could pretend to be a lost minstrel or even a guest and nobody would be any wiser. As it was, Jaskier was going to need to take an alternate path to get in.

Sometimes the easiest path was also the most obvious. Jaskier shouldered his empty lute case the next morning and headed for the mansion in his nicest, rich green doublet. He asked for an audience with Baron Sombay and waited with a small, pleasant smile. The time he was left alone, Jaskier spent looking around and making note of doors, where they probably led and who used them. It was a stroke of luck that Temerian architects were all so boring and built the same things over and over again.

The butler led Jaskier to the main hall where the Baron was sat on a throne like some pompous king. It was the kind of excessive posturing and opulence that Jaskier hated but could play along with the best of them. He plastered on his most smarmy smile.

“Baron Sombay.” Jaskier gave a deep bow with a flourishing twist. “Thank you for seeing me. I am Valdo Marx, renowned and beloved bard of Cidaris.” He took a pause to let the words sink in before launching in when it looked like Sombay wasn’t going to say anything. “I’ve heard people talking about your wedding and that you’re on the search for only the best for your bride. So I’ve travelled across the lands to offer my bardic services. You may know me for classics like Rose of Cidaris.”

Even if Sombay wasn’t searching for the best, he couldn’t exactly say that. Now for the kicker. “Allow me to play for you this evening to give you a flavour of my talents. I’ve travelled a long way for this honour.”

If Sombay cared as much for appearances as Jaskier assumed, he would be given a room for the night and a meal too. Exactly as predicted, Sombay nodded - he would have been a fool to turn down free entertainment.

“Very well. You may play tonight. A room will be prepared for you so you may stay the night as thanks for your services.”

Perfect. Jaskier gave another deep bow and allowed the butler to lead him to a room in the mansion. A servant would come for him with supper a little before Jaskier was to play. It gave him most of the afternoon to explore and get where he really wasn’t supposed to be.

As soon as the servant had left and there were no footsteps in the hallway, Jaskier stepped out of his room and made a beeline for the servants’ corridors. Stuck up Temerians and their obsession with keeping the help separate from the residents and guests. At least it helped Jaskier sneak down to the grounds. The stables were off to the left and the cellars to the right. Usually, cellars were underground so the dungeons had to be near it too, lazy and cheap construction meant only digging one area out rather than two.

Sure enough, Jaskier found the guard room which was thankfully empty. The keys weren’t in sight but that wasn’t a problem, Jaskier had picked a fair few locks in his life. Sneaking down, he took a moment to listen. There was no sign of guards or anything other than the occasional chain rattle and shifting of a body. Pulling himself upright, as though he belong there, Jaskier sauntered into the jail. Three cells lined one side of the wall, very basic really, no doubt the cellar was a few shovel smacks away on the empty side of the corridor. Jaskier tried not to snort in derision at the cheapskate that Sombay was proving to be. At this rate it wouldn’t be a surprise to find he was having pigeon squabs served as quail at parties.

All grumblings fell by the wayside as Jaskier spotted Geralt in one of the cells. Chained and bloodied, he didn’t look in great shape. However, he looked up as soon as Jaskier stopped in front of the bars and gave him a finger waggling wave.

“Jaskier,” Geralt grunted. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Neither should you. And I’m here to do something about it.” Pulling his lockpick set from his pocket, Jaskier set to work. “Want to fill me in on what happened? Or shall I guess?”

“Sombay wanted a spectacular wedding gift,” Geralt grunted. “Wanted to defeat a witcher to woo his bride.”

Nodding along, Jaskier huffed. “But the wedding is a while off, he can’t exactly beat a healthy witchers so he’s been keeping you underfed and weak. How dull.”

The cell door was almost open, Jaskier could feel the lock turning and almost clicking when the door at the top of the dungeon and a shout went up. Finally the lock clicked open and Jaskier rushed to Geralt. There were manacles around his wrists, deep bruising peered out from underneath them along with crusted blood where he had obviously been struggling.

“Shit!” Guardsmen were barging into the cell, swords raised and shouting. Usually, Jaskier would try his best to sweet talk his way out of such a situation but he also knew a lost cause when he saw one. There was no chance of convincing the guards he was a curious simpleton in the wrong part of the mansion.

Not that the guards would have listened. The first one barged into the cell and Jaskier managed to get a good few hits in, ignoring the stinging of his knuckles. He wasn’t fast enough to dodge a swing from another and the guard of a sword grazed him across the chin. It wasn’t enough to daze him but there was still a feral growl from behind him and the next minute the world was spinning and Jaskier’s back thudded into the wall. Winded, he stared up at Geralt who had somehow managed to break the chains holding him and was bracketing him against the wall. Their foreheads were pressed together and Jaskier’s eyes hurt as he focused on Geralt. He felt and heard rather than saw Geralt flinch with the wet thud of something striking flesh several times.

“Geralt?” he asked and was immediately worried when he got a shake of the head and Geralt’s eyes remained closed. Over his shoulder, Jaskier saw the archer let loose another shot and Geralt grunted at the impact. “Shit.”

There were two guards on the floor already and Jaskier wasted no time pulling a dagger from his boot and flinging it at the archer. That left one more guard and Jaskier snarled.

“If you want to live, you will sit in the corner, facing the wall.”

Hands up, the guard did as told, eyes wide as he took in the sight of Geralt with three arrows sticking out of his back but still upright. He didn’t need to know that it was a close call and Jaskier slipped an arm around Geralt’s waist just in time to take the brunt of his weight. There was no way they were going to be able to make it out of the mansion like that, Geralt needed a healer. Grunting, Jaskier adjusted his grip and staggered them out of the cell.

Obviously Geralt had used up what little energy he had left to break free of his chains and protect Jaskier. Not three steps out, his legs crumpled beneath him and he dragged Jaskier down with him.

“What are you doing, Marx?!” The roar of the butler was easy enough to tune out because Jaskier wasn’t the one being yelled at. “Marx!”

Oh shit, Jaskier realised it was him, he’d introduced himself as Valdo after all. Plastering on his biggest smile, he waved cheerfully at the butler who was thundering across the courtyard.

“Just doing a bit of spring cleaning. I much prefer to put spiders out than kill them. But the guards had a different opinion.” In a way, Jaskier did think of witchers like giant spiders. They did away with all the pests but nobody thanked them for it.

“That’s not a spider!”

“Then you certainly won’t mind helping, will you? Come on, summon a sorceress or a healer. And please be a dear heart and hurry up.” Huffing, the butler looked ready to argue but Jaskier pulled another dagger from his other boot. “Now, if you will.”

Retreating, the butler grumbled but thankfully looked to be behaving. Jaskier set the dagger aside and stroked over Geralt’s cheek. “Help is on the way my darling. You just meditate until then.”

Carding fingers through Geralt’s hair, he began to hum, watching as the butler was approaching and a portal opened up in the courtyard, a familiar figure with violet eyes stepping out. They could both relax now, help had finally arrived.

They quickly managed to portal to a safe haven, Jaskier lowering Geralt onto the bed and twisting him onto his front. Yennefer worked swiftly, snapping the arrow in half before setting to work on extracting them with magic and skill. There was nothing for Jaskier to do until she was finished, Geralt was bandaged up between them and left to heal on his side. All too soon he was rolling onto his stomach, head hanging over the edge to throw up before Jaskier could get a bowl under him.

“I fucking hate portals,” Geralt grumbled.

“Well, one of them saved your life just now.”

An unintelligible mutter was the only response to Jaskier’s words but he didn’t mind. If Geralt was well enough to mumble unhelpful things, he was definitely on the mend. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to be a little more gentle with him. Settling on the bed, Jaskier brushed hair from Geralt’s face tenderly.

“You really scared me there,” he said.

With a sigh, Geralt was back on his side, eyes closed and obviously enjoying the fingers stroking down his face. It made Jaskier even more determined to keep going, petting down neck and bare shoulder to soothe both of them. For Geralt it was a nice, gentle touch while for Jaskier it was a reassurance that Geralt was very much alive under his fingers.

“Would you have survived taking three arrows to the chest?” Geralt cracked an eye open to stare at Jaskier who pressed his lips into a thin line. “Didn’t think so.”

Silence descended on them and Jaskier began to hum an old lullaby. He watched as Geralt fought off sleep, determined to try and say something.

“I would do it again.”

“What, get locked up in a cell and starved?” Despite his words, Jaskier knew what Geralt meant but he couldn’t bear to hear the words. Not like he had any choice anyway.

“Save you. You’re the bright spot in my life. I can’t lose you.”

With that, Geralt drifted off again, a small smile to his lips. Carefully, Jaskier helped shuffle him closer to the centre of the bed and curled up against his chest. He ached to hold Geralt but his injuries wouldn’t allow for it. Instead, he had to make do with pulling Geralt’s arms around himself and listening to the soft, steady breaths. Craning his neck, he pressed a kiss to Geralt’s chin before tucking back in against the warmth of a solid chest and closing his eyes. He wasn’t resting, someone needed to watch over Geralt and Jaskier could rest with him, guarding him while he slept off the worst of his injuries.

**Author's Note:**

> Find more on tumblr @drjezdzany and @jaskiersvalley


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